


Why?

by plaidsleep



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidsleep/pseuds/plaidsleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The words reverberated throughout the room and throughout his mind, filling him with fear and insanity to the point of weakened knees. Blessing or curse, the familiar soul remained near to calm and soothe him from the onslaught of unwanted memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

> The setting is right after Retrace 33, where we see Vincent cradling Gilbert's head. There are no major spoilers, but there are mentions to what happens in that chapter.

_"From now on, no matter who you kill with your own hands, I will stand by your side!"_

Those words felt so far away, so distant. Yet so close, physically and mentally. Like a memory, or a dream freshly realized. But unlike a dream, where everything existed in the mind, these words were solid.

These words had weight to them. They had warmth, they had texture, scent and sound.

These words were real.

The "you" was himself—the "I" the one responsible for all the sounds still reverberating against each aching wall of his mind. His younger brother. Vincent. The man half-sitting in his lap and cradling his dark head to a warm, beating chest, thin fingers tangled in his messy hair.

Any other night Gilbert would have grunted Vincent off him.

Any other time he would have stood and moved away before the man's hands could graze him.

Any other circumstance he would have greeted his bother's sentence with a frown, a word of acknowledgement or disapproval, then one of parting before taking his leave.

But not this time, not this hour.

Not when his mind still felt so raw and so numb from an onslaught of rapid thought and freshly opened memories.

No.

He needed this. He needed the weight of a human being holding down his frame, needed that warm heartbeat in his ear, that single reassurance cementing him to the here and now and not the past.

He did not want to remember that, those memories and experiences buried deep inside.

It was so strange to think about. He had longed to discover his history, to remember who he was and who he had been before waking up in an unfamiliar garden and starting fresh with a new "identity." For fifteen years he had known nothing about himself save for a name and a sibling discovered only a decade earlier.

But now…

Now…

Those thoughts still echoed in whispers throughout the room. Kill, kill, kill. A girl with a rebellious demeanor hidden behind dark brown bangs. A promise to deny forgiveness. An object in his small hand. The loud shout of a name. Orders to stay away. Blood. Screams. Words—words he would never— _should_ never utter—slipping so easily from his mouth before gushing forth and filling the room.

Gilbert's arms twitched.

As though guided by invisible strings they ghosted forward off the chair's own arms. His left arm laid across the blonde's lap while his right hand clung loosely to a handful of cloth covering Vincent's outer hip.

He was scared. Scared of what he had said, scared of these memories, and scared…scared of himself. The statement he had proclaimed, the ferocity of his words—had those really come from him? 

Had he truly said that?

Swearing to kill anyone? 

Even—

Through a mild trembling he managed to grip the black fabric much, much tighter in his right hand. His breath hitched. He felt sick.

The movement did not go unnoticed.

Vincent's sharp grin faded when Gil's arms started to glide, but soon grew back into its natural, unsettling serenity. He said nothing, offered no sound. Only stroked a gloved finger against a curl of raven-black hair and gazed at the arm across his lap out of the corner of a bi-colored vision. He felt the trembling and sudden jump in breath. Vincent caressed Gil's cheek with the back of his curled fingers, still playing with that bit of hair.

Gil's arms and body ached to move, to tighten around the form atop him. So warm, so close. So familiar and willing to help. The man's fingers tickled his skin and slightly pulled at his hair, but he gave no mind when the silence broke and a soft hum floated into his ears. The melody rose above the pounding in his ears and sealed away each terrible image one by one. No more blood, no more shouts. Just a warm comforting tune tugging at a door in the back of his memory.

The quaking halted and the bubbling of his stomach ceased. His breathing grew steady and rapid heartbeat settled.

For a moment, he forgot himself.

Who was this person? To drive away the fear and make him feel so at ease. This person humming a familiar melody to hush his thoughts. To give him purpose. To give him kindness. Something solid and warm and close and recognizable.

Maybe…

Long blond hair fell over the man's shoulder and brushed against his face. The color glinted in his gold eyes.

Gilbert blinked.

No. The one he thought of, the one he desired, this was not that person. The only resounding similarity was the hair tickling his cheek.

If he focused, he could imagine the blond locks belonging to his precious someone. The same color, the same bounce, the same smoothness against his skin. But in the end still fake. Still not the same.

Gil's tense body deflated with a sigh and his wide eyelids drooped.

Vincent's placid grin pulled sharply at one corner. A smirk. Somehow the altered expression caught Gil's attention and he lifted his gaze. One wine-red, one golden eye stared back at him, half-lidded gaze clashing with attentive one. Vincent combed a clothed hand through Gilbert's messy bangs and the smirk became a serene, reassuring smile.

How was it? How could he be so tender toward a person who had just wrapped a hand around his throat, slammed him against a wall, yelled in his face?

"You look tired."

The break of silence and humming caught Gilbert off-guard.

"…yeah." He always felt tired.

"Maybe," Vincent let the word hang on the tip of his tongue, "you should rest here tonight. A familiar setting might help put your mind at ease."

Gilbert didn't know how to respond to that. His mind was still busy considering the man's first statement and scavenging for a reason for such behavior. Simple brotherly devotion was all he could gather. But at the same time, he could not help but ponder if that was enough. It felt too big for one simple word.

To say what he did, to show affection after being shown violence, to soothe him and hug him as he did now—what did that take? Did he hide his true feelings behind that ever-present smile, or did he truly mean what he said?

_"It would all be for you."_

_"I am fine as long as I am with my big brother."_

But that big brother had spent so little time with him. He had focused on bettering himself and becoming stronger, entered Pandora and made a contract with a chain, spent ten years searching for someone when he had already found another. All for one person.

Oz had come to always accept things as they were. No matter the situation, the oddity of it, he just took it as reality and moved on. Perhaps Vincent was the same: accepting his violent actions, like how he accepted his lost memory and strive to be with his master rather than his own flesh and blood. 

Gilbert pursed his lips.

They really were the same. And yet so different.

"Brother?"

Gilbert jumped and blinked away his wandering thoughts. It only occurred to him after Vincent tilted his head that he had not given an answer. He frowned, lowered his gaze, furrowed his brow, and shook his head.

Vincent gave an airy sound of acknowledgement full of disappointment. "I see," he mumbled through a whisper.

The weight on Gilbert's lap shifted and Vincent drew closer to his face. In a gentle proceeding and fluid motion, the blond's lips planted themselves against the skin of his bare forehead, bangs already brushed to the side. He had received pecks on the forehead before—from Ada when he bumped his head as a child, or from a kind servant come to save him from a nightmare. So he knew how they felt—sweet and gentle, affectionate and light. 

This did not feel like one. Even with the slight pop of parting lips, the touch resembled more an innocent settling of skin than an intimate display of love.

Still, the modest sound rang like a gong in his mind. It woke his senses and drew forth his full attention.

And he realized: Vincent was sitting in his lap. Vincent had just kissed him.

A light blush glowed beneath Gilbert's ivory cheeks. The older brother turned his gaze sidelong—accidentally brushing against the other's lips again—and cleared his throat to ease off some embarrassment.

"Vince."

The blond blinked as he pulled back. "Yes, brother?"

Gilbert's jaw fell but no words came forth. Instead, he moved his legs and jostled Vincent's frame a bit. With an amused grin and a sound like the hybrid of a hum and a chuckle, the blond lifted from his brother's lap and stood back. Gilbert watched the other straighten his robe before standing himself.

"I should go."

"Back to that master, right?" His bi-colored gaze seemed to only partially focus on him. "Your loyalty truly is admirable. That's one of the things I love about you, brother." And then his attention shifted. To what Gilbert could not tell.

"I'm sorry I kept you so long," Vincent added. "You probably missed your chance; the festival should be over by now."

The heterochromic eyes returned to him and glinted at his mild confusion. The expression dissipated and Gilbert's face returned to its usual serious form.

"Vincent."

The man's visage turned plain, expectant. Gilbert released a sigh and broke the short silence. "If you remember anything…"

The words faded as another of Vincent's unnerving smiles grew. "You'll be the first I tell, big brother."

Another pause. 

"Thanks." Gilbert's dark frame pivoted and headed for the door. He opened it but stopped half-way. "Good night, Vince."

"Good night, brother."

Gilbert gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. But before he could move through the doorway—

"Gilbert?"

He turned and eyed the blond still smiling in the darkness.

"Please visit again soon. It gets lonely here without you."


End file.
